


Halves

by ebbj9891



Series: In Quest Of Something [46]
Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Established Relationship, Family Dynamics, Friendship, Gen, Light Angst, M/M, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-10
Updated: 2014-12-10
Packaged: 2018-02-28 21:40:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2748080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ebbj9891/pseuds/ebbj9891
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As Justin learns more about the recent rift between Brian and Michael, he grows concerned about the future of his friendship with Daphne.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Halves

**Author's Note:**

> This follows on from the events of _Friends_ and _Strangers_ , which I would recommend that you read first if you haven't already. I sort of see these three fics as a little mini-series/trilogy within the series as a whole. Feedback is always very much appreciated :)

Of all the long nights Just has spent at his studio, this one seems to be the longest by far. The heating is balancing precariously between "shoddy" and "shot to shit", his hand has cramped up three times already, and he has been waiting anxiously for ages for Brian to return from taking Michael to the airport. The stress from that isn't helping his gimp hand one bit - as Justin kneads at it, trying to unlock it from its cast iron state, all he can think about is whether the last few days have succeeded in healing the rift between Brian and Michael.

As the heating unit splutters and edges closer and closer to its final destination of "shot to shit", Justin hears keys turning in the lock. Moments later, Brian walks in, seemingly without a care in the world. Justin greets him with a kiss and allows him to take over soothing his strained hand. Since Brian is sensitive about the recent conflict with Michael, Justin elects to begin the conversation that they need to have as delicately as possible.

"How was traffic?"

"Fine," Brian says, shrugging, his fingers rubbing over Justin's tensed hand expertly.

"And how was everything with Michael?"

This query is delivered as innocuously as the first, in the hopes that Brian won't pick up on Justin's heightened sense of concern and become offended. And it works, for the most part; on the one hand, Brian seems unaware of Justin's underlying worry and is calm in his response. On the other hand, he's as  _laissez faire_ about this issue as he was about the traffic. With an identical shrug and in the same apathetic tone, he replies, "That was fine, too."

Since his hand has now been successfully soothed, Justin turns it over and grasps Brian's, locking their fingers together delicately. As he strokes his thumb over Brian's, Justin asks, "And what exactly do you mean by 'fine'?"

Apparently this doesn't come across as delicately as Justin had hoped. In fact, Brian seems to deem this to be a clear-cut case of overstepping.

"It's not exactly a complicated word," Brian snarks, snatching his hand away. He strides towards the fridge and retrieves a beer. As he discards of the cap, he fixes Justin with a scowl. It's probably supposed to serve as a warning _(_ _go no further),_ but Justin isn't intimidated. He knows that scowl. He's intimately acquainted with that scowl. It may be warning  _go no further_ but he knows he'll get away with it if he does choose to proceed. And proceed he will - this thing with Brian and Michael has been eating away at him for ages now, and he can't let it lie any longer.

"It may appear uncomplicated, but in my experience, it rarely is." Justin starts packing away his supplies as he continues, "To say things are 'fine' seems to imply that they're somewhere between bad and good, possibly leaning in favour of the former."

Brian rolls his eyes. As he takes a drink and heads over to the couch, he drawls, "Haven't you answered your own question, then? Why interrogate me if you already know the answer?"

"I'm not interrogating you," Justin protests. "I just want to know what's going on with you two. I  _know_ you haven't told me everything."

He has been trying not to let it bother him, but it does. When Brian first came clean about his falling out with Michael, it soon became evident that Justin wasn't hearing the whole story. When he asked Brian to reveal all, Brian refused.  _There are some things that don't deserve to be repeated,_ Brian said tersely, his tendencies for being a control-freak slash know-it-all shining brighter than ever. Justin continued prodding but this was only met by more stonewalling, and ultimately, Brian shutting him down entirely by snapping,  _What the fuck happened the last time you asked me to repeat horrible shit he said about you? Do you really want a repeat of that?_

Since Justin certainly didn't want a repeat of that, he let it be. He told himself to trust Brian's judgment, so trust it he did. It's not like he can't fill in the blanks well enough on his own: he knows that Michael still harbours some resentment over Justin allegedly 'luring' Brian to New York, and for abandoning _Rage_ to focus on other creative pursuits, and for being the reason that Brian missed Michael's birthday party that one time. Hell, maybe it goes back further than that; Justin doesn't like to think so, but he knows it's at least possible that the dreaded topic of Ethan came up during Brian and Michael's knock-out fight. That would certainly explain the traces of possessiveness that Brian has been demonstrating of late. It hurts to think about it - Ethan has been a non-issue for them for years, so why should it be any different for Michael? Ultimately, all of this leads to one place: that Brian is right. Justin is better off know knowing certain things. But he also doesn't want to be left out in the cold entirely. 

What's more, he really doesn't want to incite a fight, so as Justin persists, he adopts a different strategy. Very gently, he reminds Brian, "This is important to you, so it's important to me. And Michael is  _our_ family."

This approach works wonders: Brian visibly caves. His expression softening, he says, "It was alright. These last few days... it's felt better than it has in years."

"That's good," Justin comments encouragingly. "So do you think you guys are back on track?"

"Define 'back on track'," Brian mutters, flopping down on the couch. Before Justin can explain what he's envisaging, Brian notes solemnly, "A few days isn't going to fix years of damage."

"What do you think it'll take?" Justin stares at him, awaiting Brian's response with a pinching sense of anticipation. When Brian simply remains silent, his gaze fixed on the drink grasped in his hand, Justin prompts, "You want to go back to how things were, don't you?"

Brian smiles and meets Justin's gaze. There's something off about it; it takes Justin a moment to deciper the strange look and identify the traces of bitterness and pity. That hurts, but not as much as what Brian says next: "There is no going back."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," Brian sighs, shifts to rest against the arm of the couch, and takes a swig of beer. "I mean that we're not teenagers anymore. We're not even who we were in our twenties. We're different people."

This revelation in and of itself doesn't come as a shock. Justin has been witness to Brian and Michael changing, albeit from very different vantage points. He's also very aware that they're both far removed from their teens and twenties (though Brian ordinarily loathes to admit that). The notion that Brian and Michael have grown up and changed isn't startling. What startles Justin is how okay Brian seems to be. There's a trace of melancholy to all of this, sure, but it's surprisingly slight. Quite calmly, Brian continues, "When we were kids, I never would have seen this coming. I thought Mikey was the one thing I could bet on - my one surefire guarantee. And it was true back then... but a lot of things were, that aren't now."

His smile grows somewhat sharper. "Things rarely turn out like you think they will. That's especially true when it comes to how you think things are going to be when you're in fucking high school."

"I thought things were getting better," Justin says, thinking back to what he saw from them over the past few days. Brian and Michael seemed so much better; they seemed like their old selves, they seemed to be having fun. They certainly weren't _screaming the house down,_ which is what Ben reported having happened during that disastrous dinner a month or so ago. Confused, Justin looks to Brian inquiringly. It's a dead end if there ever was one; Brian is silent and expressionless. Justin abandons his workbench and goes to sit down at the other end of the couch. He grabs Brian's feet and pulls them into his lap, slips off his shoes, then rubs his feet gently. Brian drains half the bottle before he speaks again. When he does so, it's in a slight hush. "We don't connect like we used to."

"How so?"

Brian shrugs again, but it looks more troubled this time. "I don't feel like we know each other all that well. It's kind of like Daphne said - it's all rooted in nostalgia, these days. There's a lot of stuff I feel like I can't talk to him about. I just don't see any way to bridge the gap."

"Why not?"

"What is this, twenty questions?" Brian frowns at Justin. "If so, your number is almost well and truly up."

Justin smacks his leg and issues a stern warning: "We've been together for almost nine years, asshole, so you can shove your twenty questions - I deserve a much more generous allotment than that."

Although there's some eye-rolling and sighing, Brian quickly relents and grabs Justin's hand to squeeze it lightly. Justin can sense Brian's defenses crumbling and knows for sure that they're well and truly diminished when Brian asks, "What was the question again?"

"Why don't you think there's a way to bridge the gap?"

With a shrug, Brian muses, "Because we're too far apart. We have different lives."

"Daph and I are far apart," Justin says, feeling a swell of panic deep inside. "Daph and I have different lives."

Brian shakes his head. "You and Daphne are different."

Except that they're  _not._ His panic rising, Justin protests, "We grew up together, just like you two. We're separated now, just like you two. We have vastly different-"

"Justin," Brian interjects, quite firmly. "You and Daphne are different."

"How?!"

"You grew up together, just like me and Mikey, sure." Brian offers Justin his beer. Justin accepts it hastily and takes a much-needed drink. As Brian takes it back, he explains, "The difference is that you continued growing together. Me and Mikey? We grew apart."

"And what's to stop that from happening to me and Daph?!"

"Are you serious?" Brian peers at him. Justin stares back with an expression that he hopes screams  _of course I'm fucking serious, what the fuck does it look like?!_ Brian sighs and says, "Well, let's see... there's the monthly visits, the fortnightly care packages, the weekly phone calls, the daily texts... that counts for a fuck of a lot, you know."

"I guess so," Justin mumbles, ducking his head and focusing his attention on massaging Brian's feet. "But back to you and Michael."

"If you insist," Brian snarks. He then drains the last of his beer and sets the bottle aside. "Okay, Sunshine, question six-thousand-and-seventy-three: what's it going to be?"

Justin pulls a face at him. "Watch it, Kinney, or I'll go into the quintuple digits."

As Brian smirks, Justin queries, "Are you... okay?"

There are a sparse few seconds during which Brian looks terribly offended by this question, but that soon fades. There's some sense of reticence as he replies, but it's blessedly minimal. "I think if this had happened when we were younger, it would have destroyed me. There was a time when it seemed like he and Deb were the only people I could count on, the only people who were good to me - losing them would have..."

Brian trails off. Concern looms big inside Justin, never more so than when Brian forces a smile and remarks breezily, "Anyway. Things are different now, aren't they? The ratio has tipped substantially."

"The ratio?"

"The ratio of good versus bad people in my life. It seems to have tipped significantly in favour of good people." Brian smiles, sits up, and leans in for a kiss. Moments before their lips meet, he adds quietly, "Much like yourself."

That remark paired with the kiss provides some comfort, but Justin can still feel that nasty knot of anxiety twisted up in the pit of his stomach. It's not even helped when Brian suggests that they go home and have dinner there, which is ordinarily one of Justin's favourite things to do. There's simply too much to worry about: Michael, Daphne, and the 'ratio'. This is the first time in  _years_ that Brian has so much as alluded to his shitty 'family'. As they make their way out of the studio, Justin asks gently, "Do you want to talk about it?"

It's so obvious what 'it' is, but Brian seems keen on feigning naïveté. Facing Justin with a deceptively bright smile, Brian asks innocently, "Talk about what?"

This is the dead-end to end all other dead-ends. It oughtn't shock him that Brian's defenses are suddenly raised again (and extensively reinforced at that); Brian has been on lockdown about his family ever since they've known each other. The smile Brian is forcing doesn't say _go no further,_ it practically screams  _leave it the fuck alone or else._ So Justin does. Still, he can't help but feel hurt. He tries to hide it, steels himself, and hates himself a little as he lies and says, "Nothing."

*

The following night, Justin is glad to find himself away from his studio, in his toasty warm kitchen cooking dinner with his gimp hand cooperating flawlessly. All of this provides some semblance of comfort but he still finds himself loaded with concerns. They immediately escalate when Brian comes home and walks into the kitchen. He takes one look at the telltale spread of food and frowns. "What's all this? You know I'm going out tonight, right?"

"I know," Justin replies, nodding. "It's not for you."

He avoids Brian's gaze as he goes to put the lasagna in the oven. He can feel it all over him like endless pin-pricks; it's soon accompanied by Brian asking, "Who's it for, then?"

Justin shrugs and admits matter-of-factly, "Daph's visiting for a few days."

Brian hums thoughtfully and leans against the kitchen island, still surveying Justin carefully. "That's rather soon, isn't it?"

"Meaning?"

"Meaning she was just here for your birthday."

Rather hotly, Justin demands, "Is there a problem? I thought you liked Daph. Actually, I do believe the other L word was used."

"You know I love Daphne," Brian says, utterly serene. "I'm only curious as to why she's visiting again so soon."

"She has time off and we want to spend it together," Justin snaps defensively. "Is that such a big deal?"

"Not at all." Brian grabs a cherry from the fruit bowl and sucks it into his mouth. Justin absolutely can't ignore that - he watches, quietly fascinated and increasingly aroused as Brian sucks on the dark red cherry in a most tempting manner. He's only torn away when his phone buzzes; it's a text from Daph, reading,  _On my way - maybe half an hr away? x_

Stubbornly ignoring Brian's intrusive staring, Justin texts back:  _See you soon :) x_  


As he tucks his phone away, Brian leans in closer and asks curiously, "This isn't about what we were talking about last night, is it?"

When Justin finds himself this stressed out, knee-jerk reactions are unavoidable. With a regrettable sense of petulance, he retorts, "Now who's asking questions they already know the answer to?" 

"Justin," Brian says quietly, reaching his hand across the island. After a spell of reluctance, Justin reaches and takes it in his. "Talk to me."

Heat spreads over Justin's face as he admits, "I don't want to lose her."

Brian curses softly. "That's not what I- that's not going to happen. Not to you two."

How can Brian possibly guarantee something like that? And since when does he _ever_ speak in absolutes? Justin scoffs and protests, "You said you didn't see it coming with Michael, so-"

"I saw it coming," Brian snaps roughly. "I did, I just didn't want to admit it. There were plenty of times when I should have seen it coming to this."

"Like what? What were the warning signs?" He sounds desperate and he hates himself for that, but this thing with Brian and Michael has Justin absolutely terrified. He squeezes Brian's hand and begs, "Please. What were they? I need to know."

After looking at him intensely for a while, Brian says, "You know what's  _not_ a warning sign? How fucking much you and Daphne adore each other. You two have nothing to-"

_"Brian,"_ Justin cuts in. "Can you please answer the question without being intentionally evasive?"

With a sigh, Brian relents. Again, Justin is witness to his defenses crumbling away, slowly but surely. Eventually, he says, "Okay. Here's an example. Lately I have become painfully aware that Mikey has a very singular idea of who I was, a very singular idea of who I am, and a very singular idea of who he would like me to be. That's bad enough in and of itself, but you know the real kicker?"

As he battles a sweeping sense of dread, Justin asks quietly, "What?"

"The real kicker is that none of those people are me. I don't feel like I fit in with any of his perceptions of me: past, present, or future. Maybe there are some vague resemblances to be found, but for the most part- shit." Brian grabs his vibrating phone from his pocket and answers it hastily. "Cyn? Yeah... I'll be downstairs in twenty. See you then."

He hangs up and glances apologetically at Justin. "I'm sorry, Sunshine, time's up. I've got to get ready."

"It's fine," Justin says, not even registering what word he's just used until Brian fixes him with a troubled gaze. Suddenly Brian is by his side, bundling him up in an embrace. Justin sinks into it and tries to find solace there. It's not nearly as effective as he'd like it to be.

"Look," Brian says, as he cups Justin's face in his hands. "Have Daphne here to visit. Have her here for as long as you both like, whenever you both like. You know I don't mind."

"You love it," Justin mutters sullenly.

"I do," Brian admits. "Just don't go queening out about this, okay? The two of you are going to be okay."

"You can't guarantee that."

"Yes, I fucking well can." Brian steps away, tossing a forceful look Justin's way as he gathers his things. "Now, I have to get ready. Are you going to be alright?"

"Daph'll be here soon," Justin says, shrugging. "I'll be f-"

He cuts himself off before he can say  _fine_ again, because they both know what that word actually means. Instead, he smiles a little and amends, "I'll do my best to be alright."

Brian smiles back quickly, then strides off to go and get ready. Justin checks his phone again but there's nothing more from Daph. He runs through his to-do list and scans the kitchen island and counter-tops, which are covered with food and other goodies that ought to make for a fun night in. Hopefully, it will be enough.

*

Of course, the evening doesn't go quite as planned. Their movie night is put on hold before it even begins, since Daph sees right through Justin in an instant. Realistically, she has probably had him all figured out since this morning, when he called and begged her to come back to New York. She's like Brian in that way; he can't get anything past either one of them. They're always onto him. As frustrating as it can be sometimes, at its core, Justin loves it. They are the only two people in the world he feels he can be truly vulnerable with. Even better, that's mutual - he has the two of them totally sussed out and summed up, which he considers quite an accomplishment.

And because Daph is someone who loves to get straight to the point, she insists on putting their movie night on hold so that they can debrief and discuss. Since the knot of anxiety has become so big that it's threatening to split him open, Justin agrees hastily and whole-heartedly. He gathers the dinner and drinks while Daph grabs some blankets, and they head up to the roof to talk it out. Daph knows, of course, how much Justin loves it up here. It's peaceful and private (at least, about as peaceful and private as New York can ever hope to be), and tonight the air is crisp and only slightly chilly. They bundle up against the east-facing wall under the blankets and dig into dinner. In between mouthfuls of food and drink, they talk and talk and talk, in that way that Justin has never been able to replicate with anyone other than Brian. The knot of anxiety starts to unravel and dissipate.

"What bugs me the most," Justin says, pausing briefly to pour them both more wine, "Is that Bri seems totally okay with all of this."

With a burst of laughter, Daph queries, "Do you want him to be all angsty and damaged about it?"

"No! Of course not, no." Justin laughs a little and leans against her side more snugly. "I just don't get it."

"What's there to get? You said he's totally okay with it, and you'd know better than anyone, so he's totally okay with it. Isn't that explanation enough?"

Justin mulls over this for a moment. He takes a sip of wine, then another, then one more for good measure. Finally, he says, "If I ever lost you, I think it would kill me."

Daph sighs and loops her arm through his, pulling him a fraction closer. "This isn't about you and me. You're not losing me - in fact, nobody's losing anybody, necessarily. They're just not as close as they used to be."

Justin sighs and rests his head on her shoulder. Daph kisses the top of his head and says gently, "When Brian and I talked about all of this - me and Chelsea, him and Michael - we were talking about how that all seems to exist in the past, for the most part. I think that's part of the problem here - you're too focused on what things used to be. They've changed. Their friendship has changed. You can't help something like that, honey. I don't even know if it _needs_ helping. After all, Brian isn't some giant angsty ball of angst about this, is he?"

"No," Justin mumbles. "He's not. But-"

"No buts," Daph insists. "If he's okay, then why worry? From what I've seen, they're both well-equipped to endure whatever this is. They have other friends, they have partners and families... it's different to what it used to be."

"We're different to what we used to be," Justin says softly. He doesn't say anything more - he's worried that if he does, he'll get too upset and their entire evening will fall apart at the seams. Besides, Daph _knows_ \- she's always three steps ahead, knowing exactly what he's thinking and what he's about to say next.

"Honey," she whispers, cuddling him. "We are different. But we're also _so not_ Brian and Michael."

Justin opens his mouth and starts to blurt out all the alarming parallels, but he's hardly halfway through the list when Daph cuts him off and says tenderly, "Justin, stop. There may be similarities, but there's also a hell of a lot of differences. You know how I'm not talking to Chelsea anymore? I could never do that to you. _Never._ You don't ever have to worry about losing me, okay?"

"Brian said the same thing." Justin lifts his head up and meets Daph's gaze. "And he never talks like that."

"Then that tells you something, doesn't it?" She smiles at him warmly. "On the subject of things that Brian will say and won't say... well, since I know it's not his thing to call you something like this, I'm going to swoop in and steal it all for myself, okay?"

Wondering where she's going with this, Justin nods. Daph grins and says, "Ever since we were little, you felt like a part of me. Like an actual part of my physical make-up. It doesn't matter that you're living somewhere else or that we have different ways of living our lives... you're still as important to me as ever. You're my other half. Seriously, in the _least_ romantic way possible, you're my other half and my soul mate and the best, best, _best_ friend a girl could have. So will you stop worrying already?"

Her every word lifts weight from his shoulders, until Justin feels lighter than air. It is, of course, precisely what he needed to hear, precisely when he needed to hear it. Filled with gratitude, Justin grins, feeling it grow bigger and brighter as Daph grins back. He presses a kiss to her cheek, and promises, "I will."

*

Hours later, Brian returns home. By that point, they've descended from the roof, have spent hours cuddled up on the couch watching movies, and have eaten their combined body weight in dessert. The knot of anxiety that once resided in Justin's stomach has vanished completely. As Brian enters the living room, Justin smiles at him brightly. As Brian smiles back, Justin raises his finger to his lips, and gestures to Daph, who is nestled up against his side, fast asleep. Brian smiles and approaches them carefully, leaning over the back of the couch to press a kiss to Justin's temple. "I take it you had a good night?"

"Not good - great." Justin smiles at him. "You?"

"Great as well." Brian glances at Daph and their movie night set-up. "Could've been better, though."

Justin grabs his tie and strokes the green silk lightly. He likes this tie - it brings out Brian's eyes, rendering them more gorgeous than ever. Justin tugs on it gently and reels Brian in for another kiss. It's quick and gentle, and the perfect setup for his fifteen-thousandth question. Letting it sound as urgent as it ought, Justin requests, "Do me a favour?" 

With a sense of tenderness that makes Justin's heart skip a beat, Brian smiles and vows, "Anything."

"Tell me if you're okay or not?" Justin wants to say that he knows the answer - after all, like Daph said, he'd know better than anyone. But right now, he needs for Brian to confirm it. Very softly, he adds candidly, "One way or another, I need to hear it."

That has become one of their words over the years - _need_. Each of them knows that if he uses it, the other will recognise the significance of whatever he's asking for and provide it without reservation. Justin sees it now - that flicker of recognition in Brian's eyes, paired with a small yet endlessly reassuring smile.

"I'm okay." Brian leans in closer and eyes Justin with intensity. "I need you to stop worrying about this."

Justin nods. Brian smiles and whispers, "Life will go on whether Mikey and I are best friends or whether we're less than that. Besides..."

He brushes his hand through Justin's hair, sending a pleasant shiver through Justin. "Don't forget the ratio. It's long since tipped, Sunshine. I have plenty of great friends, yourself included."

Out of nowhere, Daph mumbles menacingly, "He's my best friend, asshole. I'll fight you for him."

Justin laughs and confirms, "She will. She totally kicked someone's ass in second grade for trying to steal me."

"Elliot Parker," Daph confirms, the menacing in her voice heightening. "He was such a brat."

Brian smirks and touches her hair, toying with a lock of it gently. "Can we share?"

After a pause, she agrees, "Deal."

Justin laughs as she reaches her hand up, presumably for a handshake to seal the deal, but Brian takes it and kisses it instead. Daph laughs and swats him playfully, then peels herself off Justin and suggests cheerfully, "How about another movie? It's not even late yet." 

"It's late enough that you fell asleep," Justin teases, poking her.

Daph elbows him. "Don't make me play the doctor card, Taylor. I'll do it and put you right to shame - you with your luxurious life as an _artiste_."

Of course, Brian finds that utterly hilarious and they both start cackling like the evil people they are. Justin decides not to hold a grudge and moves over so that Brian can pool onto the couch next to him. Justin wraps one arm around Daph and uses the other to grab Brian's tie and pull him closer. "So what are we watching?"

It's another long night, except this one doesn't feel quite so long. In fact, it seems to slip by surprisingly fast. That's the only thing that Justin will allow to slip away, though - everything else, everything he has right here with these two people next to him, he's going to hold onto that and make sure to never let go.

**The End**


End file.
